


Collar Me

by TheProphetMich



Category: Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, inhibitor collar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-30
Updated: 2017-09-30
Packaged: 2019-01-07 01:05:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12222615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheProphetMich/pseuds/TheProphetMich
Summary: Jaime isn't with the rest of the team, and when Bart finds him he's wearing an inhibitor collar around his neck.Takes place during season 2.





	Collar Me

Bart use to daydream about Reach soldiers being the ones to labor, collars tight around their necks, to him and the other meat in the work camp. It brought a smile out of him, a deep set leer that worked the wardens into a frenzy of kicks and insults until he was bloody and satisfaction tingled his skin.  
Jaime made his way down the hall, eyes at the ground, collar around his neck. Nightwing was a step behind him, hand on Jaime's shoulder, but only for a second because Bart rammed into him. "What the hell?" His hands were on the collar, speeding over it, first to kill the voltage pack, but it was already disabled. Actually, it was a different model than what he was use to seeing. This would take him some time, but dammit, he'd get it off.  
Jaime shoved him away, but Bart zoomed to the other side. "Dude, I’m fine."  
"This is exactly why we should've kept quiet. It wouldn't even work."  
"I'm the one who suggested it."  
Bart paused, a hand resting on the collar. The other was shoved between its inside and Jaime's neck. Bart didn't have any tools to work with and vibrating it off could make it explode.  
Jaime took Bart by the wrist and pried his hands away. Bart flicked them to his side and glared from him to Nightwing. "Collaring him won't stop the Reach."  
"We didn't think it would."  
"Then why," Bart shouted.  
Jaime touched his shoulder. Bart flinched. "Because I wanted to see," he said. "If I'd feel weaker, if I could still armor up, if it messed with the Scarab."  
Bart's mouth dried up. "Does it?"  
Jaime nodded. "Sorta? His sensors are still operational. Scarab says it wouldn't hold up against a Reach signal, but I can't summon anything. The Scarab refuses to try it on his own."  
Nightwing lead Jaime by the shoulder again, back down the hall, touch soft. "What are you even doing here, Bart?"  
The Cave was on lockout. Nightwing was suppose to be checking it over for something and told the team not to worry, it was most likely a false alarm. "Couldn't find Jaime," Bart said. "He didn't answer and it sounded suspicious. Just making sure everything's crash."  
"So no one's with you."  
"Correctamundo."  
They got to Nightwing's office. They didn't protest when he followed them in. "This is confidential."  
"Duh. You're taking it off now, right?"  
Jaime lifted his head. "We don't have to. I mean, it's a good indicator if I go on mode, and—"  
"No." Nightwing and Bart said. They were off beat with one another, Bart borderline frantic and Nightwing stern.  
Bart was at Jaime's neck again, feeling the mechanisms on the inside, the breath of the line that had the ability to unclip. Nightwing tried to pull him away, shouting for him to calm down. Bart threw an elbow his way. "Can I vibrate it off without it exploding?"  
"Yes!"  
It was off in a second. It was in Bart's hand and he threw it. It contacted the wall, clanked from there to the floor and skitted a bit from there, but it didn't break. Those hunks of metal never broke.  
Jaime took him by both his shoulders. "Bart?"  
Bart was breathing fast; he wasn't sure when that started, but he shoved Jaime off. "Don't put it back on."  
He gaped at him, stepping back. "I won't. I promise I won't, just calm down."  
He sat in a nearby chair. Nightwing had several rolly ones on the open side of his desk. Bart slouched in his, spinning it around with his foot.  
Nightwing picked up the collar and carried it over the his desk. There was a box there, white and glossy. Black sponge indented at the exact shape of the collar. Dick dropped it in and slid it into the outer sleeve before carrying it to his wall cabinet. To the safe sitting inside. "We don't use these," he said, locking it up tight. "I had to put in a special request to acquire one; it's on loan from Belle Rev. It's illegal to possess one without the proper paperwork, and unless you're dealing with our justice system, you shouldn't come in contact with it."  
Shouldn't because villains often had connections, but Bart relaxed. It wasn't a common thing. The League didn't keep a case of them around for emergencies, though it seemed a bit stupid of them not to if Bart thought about it. "What about Batman?"  
"Neither does Batman," Dick assured. "You okay?"  
"Yeah." Not crash. Not close to crash, but okay. He looked at Jaime. "I don't think you turn bad. For the record. And if it's not a conscious thing on your part, taking away your ability to do something won't help." He sped to Blue's side and punched his shoulder. "Okay, hermano?"  
Jaime smiled at him. A bit forced, but Bart took it.  
Nightwing sat at his desk. "The team’ll be filtering back in soon; I'm ending the lockout."  
They ended up in the kitchen, a bag of chips between them, but mostly for Bart. "You ever wear one," Jaime asked. Bart played deaf and licked BBQ from his fingers. "How long,"  
He spun pleasantness into his tone. "About half my life."  
He nodded. Bart expected more questions, a sadder tone, but it didn't come. "I have some pocket money. Chicken whizzies?"  
Bart smiled. If Jaime's pity came in the form of junk food, who was he to stop him?

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments appreciated.


End file.
